


March Madness

by rainbowysl



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Flirting, M/M, Meet-Cute, Meet-Ugly, Minor Injuries
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-24
Updated: 2018-03-24
Packaged: 2019-04-07 15:31:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,708
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14083986
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rainbowysl/pseuds/rainbowysl
Summary: It's Flower's fault, really, when it comes down to it.





	March Madness

**Author's Note:**

> If you got here by Googling yourself please turn around and leave the way you came in and save us both a lot of embarrassment.

It’s Flower’s fault, really, when it comes down to it. 

His and Tanger’s. They’d taken one look at the dark circles under Sid’s eyes, the piles of homework on either side of him (one for what he’d already done and one for what was left to do), and the three empty cups of coffee at his elbow and had bodily dragged him from the kitchen table.

“Flower,” Sid had whined, while he struggled against Tanger, who was aggressively forcing him into a Pitt basketball jersey. “I have so much work to do.”

“It’s not even two months into the semester, Sid, and it’s a Saturday. You’re coming out with us.” Flower had replied as Tanger finally managed to pull the jersey down over Sid’s head. “You can finish your work tomorrow.”

And that’s how Sid finds himself courtside at a Pitt basketball game (thanks to Flower’s girlfriend, Veronique, and her many connections to the team, Flower had explained proudly) as they are thoroughly embarrassed by Florida State. Flower and Tanger are chattering away in French at his side, mostly about what a disappointment the team is this year, from what Sid can pick up, and the student section is a dull roar behind him.

The first half had been nothing short of a blowout. Pitt couldn’t seem to hit any shot they took and they couldn’t figure out how to defend against the three pointers that FSU’s freshman superstar kept landing. It was so bad that Florida State wasn’t even playing their top line (“They’re not called lines in basketball, Sid,” Tanger had told him with exasperation).

The second half isn’t going much better and really, Sid has never seen the appeal of basketball as anything more than some good background noise when he’s writing a paper and can’t find any hockey to watch. The game is boring and Sid isn’t paying much attention, so he supposes he can take some of the blame for what happens next. One minute he’s half-heartedly reading one of the game programs they’d gotten out in the concourse and the next minute there’s a blinding pain in his nose, he’s lying on the floor, and he’s vaguely aware that that his hands, which he’s clasped over his nose, and a good part of his face feel wet.

The arena is much quieter, but there’s a low buzz from the crowd that makes Sid feel like he’s in a beehive. He belatedly realizes, as he blinks his eyes open and pulls his hands away from his face, that the wetness on his face and hands is blood and that Flower and Tanger are standing over him, along with a very tall, very concerned looking jersey-clad guy that Sid has never seen before. Sid has time to note that the guy is dripping sweat and is also attractive in a way that chapped lips, droopy eyes, and a crooked nose have no business being before they’re joined by a very serious looking man wearing blue latex gloves.

The man helps Sid sit up and carefully places gauze under his nose to slow the bleeding. After a moment he helps Sid stand and starts to walk him across the court in the direction of the locker rooms. He’s vaguely aware of Tanger and Flower trailing along behind them and the applause of the crowd as they realize he’s okay.

The man, apparently a trainer for the team, leads them down a hallway and into a room with an examination table on one wall and cabinets, drawers, and a sink on the other, and tells Sid to sit down, which he does with some help from Tanger and Flower. He feels dizzy and his head hurts, which he must say out loud, because the trainer looks at him even more seriously than before.

The man grabs a few things from the drawers and cabinets lining the wall of the room and starts cleaning Sid’s face and patching up his nose the best he can.

“You ever had a concussion before, son?” Sid flinches as the man prods gently at his nose. Distantly, he can hear the sound of the final buzzer. He hadn’t realized the game had been so close to ending.

“Yeah, a couple times in juniors,” Sid answers.

“Hockey,” Flower says, when the man looks up questioningly.

“Gotcha,” the man says. “Alright, well, I’m going to ask you a couple of questions and do some tests, just to be safe, since you have a history with concussions. Can you tell me your name?”

“Sidney Crosby.” With his swollen nose, it comes out sounding more like “Sid-dey Crobby.” The man asks him some more questions, the answers of which are confirmed by Flower and Tanger, but frowns a little when Sid mentions that he can’t remember how he ended up on the floor after getting hit. He’s about to shine a light in Sid’s eyes when the door bangs open, making everyone jump.

The tall guy from before stands in the doorway, the same concerned expression on his face as he looks at Sid. The trainer is extremely unamused.

“Geno-”

“I know, am sorry. I’m just want to make sure he’s okay, feel bad about maybe break nose.”

He finally catches sight of Sid and his swollen nose and his expression changes from concerned to horrified.

Sid cringes, which then makes him flinch when the movement includes his nose. “That bad?”

The guy-Geno-blushes. “Is just, um,” he gestures at his own face. “Big.”

That makes Sid bark out a laugh, and his usual honking laugh is made even worse by the swelling in his face. He smacks a hand over his mouth, his own blush matching Geno’s.

“If you’re done flirting, Geno, I’d like to finish checking Sidney out.” They both jump at the sound of the trainer’s voice, and Sid realizes they’ve been staring at each other.

Flower mumbles something about Geno being the one to check Sidney out, making Tanger snort, and Sid glares at him. Flower shrugs at him smugly.

“Yes, sorry, I will just…” Geno points at the door behind him with his thumb and slips out, giving Sid one last look before he disappears.

Sid would stare after him, but he knows his friends well enough to predict the amount of chirping that would earn him, so he turns his attention back to the trainer.

The man does some more tests and pokes at Sid’s nose some more, to Sid’s displeasure and Flower and Tanger’s great amusement at the faces he makes, before stepping back and pulling off his gloves.

“Well Sidney,” he says as he finishes washing his hands at the sink, “I don’t think you have a concussion, although I was worried that you didn’t recall how you got on the floor, but shock will do that. Miraculously, I don’t think your nose is broken either, but I want you to check in with your regular doctor as soon as you can. At least in the next day or two.”

As he says this, he levels Flower with a look, like he knows that Sid won’t do it himself and will need his friends to pester him into it. Sid hates that he can be read so well by a complete stranger.

The trainer hands Sid some ibuprofen, which he takes, makes up an ice pack for his nose, and sends the three of them on their way.

They make it as far as the concourse before Sid looks up and sees Geno over the top of the ice pack he has pressed to his nose.

“We’ll, uh, wait outside for you, eh Sid?” Flower elbows him and then winks before ushering Tanger towards the exit, leaving Sid alone with Geno.

“Hey,” Sid says, smiling behind his ice pack.

“Hi,” Geno says. He returns Sid’s smile, a little shy and unsure. They look at each other for a moment before Geno speaks again.

“I’m want to say sorry for your nose. Throw pass to teammate but he move and then I’m see ball hit you and…” He gestures at Sid’s nose.

“Don’t worry about it,” Sid says around his ice pack. “It’s partly my fault, I should have been paying attention.”

The ice pack is starting to drip on the floor, so Sid takes it off his face for a moment.

“Oh, wow.” Geno’s eyes go wide, falling on Sid’s nose.

Sid laughs. “How bad is it? I haven’t seen it yet.”

“Is like…not orange but-” He mimes something bigger than an orange.

“A grapefruit?”

“Yes! Like grapefruit.” Geno grins. His smile is so goofy and wide and genuine that Sid can’t help but smile back at him. They stand and smile at each other, and Sid silently thanks whatever gods are looking out for him that Flower and Tanger had chosen to wait outside.

“Let me take you to dinner,” Geno says, breaking their silence. “Want to make up to you for breaking face.”

“Oh, you don’t have to do that, it’s not even broken and this week is gonna be so crazy, I have so much work to do-”

Geno waves his hand like he can physically wipe away Sid’s excuses. “You tell professors star of basketball team hit your face, has to make up. Can send flowers, they know I’m really beg forgiveness.” He smiles at Sid again, tongue between his teeth, and there’s a mischievous glint in his eye.

“Okay,” Sid agrees. “But maybe after this looks normal again?” He points at his nose.

“Think you look good even with fat nose, but fine, can wait.” Geno pulls out his phone. “We get numbers, you text when face look normal, yes?”

Sid’s almost too caught up in the fact that Geno just said he looked good, let alone with a swollen face, to react, but manages to pulls himself together enough to trade phones with Geno so they can exchange numbers.

They part ways after that, and Sid lets himself look back only to find Geno doing the same. He can’t stop smiling, despite his swollen face and the ice bag dripping down his hand, even when he gets outside and Flower and Tanger chirp him mercilessly all the way to the car.


End file.
